


Transitional Motherhood

by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Animal Death, Forest Sprite, Gen, Lactation, Spring Sprite AU, shape changing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10749744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_in_ink/pseuds/Angel%20Ascending
Summary: Motherhood knows no shape or gender.





	Transitional Motherhood

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @HerbertBest's new AU! Thanks to @TheseusInTheMaze for encouraging me to write this and also for coming up with the title!

Dan hates finding the traps. He knows logically that humans need to eat, and that they eat animals from the woods, but the traps are always upsetting to come across, like a nightmare lurking just under the surface of a good dream. Holly breaks the empty traps whenever she comes across them, and it’s something Dan can’t fault her for, not even a little.

The trap Dan had found this morning hadn’t been empty. The gray fox vixen had stared at him with the blank, unseeing eyes of the dead, the wire tight around her neck. Dan had stroked her course fur and hoped that she hadn’t suffered for very long, hoped that the hunter that had killed the beautiful creature would at least use every part of her. He’s walking away, feeling mildly sick and more than a little sad when he hears the tiny, high pitched cries.

It doesn’t take him long to find the fox den, the litter of kits making scared little yips and growls, backing up against the wall of their den. They’re scared and hungry, poor little things. Dan can feel himself changing to suit their need, his body sprouting gray fur, his pointed ears flicking as a gray tail with a black tip brushes between his legs. There are other changes as well, nipples sprouting down his chest to join the two he usually had in his two or four legged forms. He lays in front of the den, waiting, and he knows when his smell changes because the kits stop making their sad, scared noises and instead tumble out of the den to nuzzle at him and to suckle.

Dan sighs in a mixture of sorrow and contentment as the kits nurse from him, wincing occasionally when one of them nips him with sharp baby teeth. There will be no runts in this litter. He’ll have enough milk for all of them, for as long as they need him. For now he is a fox mom. Some point in the future he might be a bird mom, or a bear mom, but for now this is what is needed.

Dan yawns, and the four little kits, bellies full of milk, yawn with him. They curl up against him, in the warmth of his fur, making sleepy noises. Dan curls his tail around them, strokes their tiny furry bodies with his hand. They are so very very small, so fragile. He falls asleep, dreams them grown, running and playing and hunting in the forest. He feels proud, in the dream, like any mother would of their children.


End file.
